


Dark Paradise

by TheAlienInsideMe (athenamarieisthebomb)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cussing, Harry-centric, Louis-centric, Love/Hate, M/M, Nerd Louis, Rich Harry, Sad Harry, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smart Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenamarieisthebomb/pseuds/TheAlienInsideMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a sassy english tutor, and Harry wears big sweaters and is all fucked up inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis Meets Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Summary and Title is subject to change. 
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>  
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> **Disclaimer:**  
>  I do not own One Direction, nor anything involving One Direction. I am a lowly peasant who sits upon her bed till 6 am writing about them. This story in no way reflects upon the boys true nature. It is a work of fiction and that is all. Id prefer if you didn't share this story with any of the boys personally or their families.  
> Good? Good.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning / Spoiler:**  
>  This story will undoubtedly, at some point, involve self harm and physical and emotional abuse. If that bothers you I apologize but I would not continue reading.  
> Also, more than likely a ton of run on sentences.  
> Apologies.
> 
>  
> 
> **Songs to Listen as you read:**  
>   
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> [Phantogram - Black Out Days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0ul-BghOAs)
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> [The Strokes - Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wybdk7zSefI)
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> [Frédéric Chopin: Nocturne in B-flat minor, Op. 9 No. 1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkJHwKmYyeM)
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> _(This last one is what I imagine Harrys internal feelings / struggle to sound like? Does that make sense? Id start listening to it as soon as he gets to Harry's, but If you're not about that classical life, just continue to listen to the others. This will more than likely be a constant song throughout the story. Also note that the other songs aren't just suggestion because of the lyrics, but it's more for the tone of the song? Ya feel me?)_
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> Don't be too harsh, this is the first thing Ive posted in like three years.  
> Not beta'd / Not proof read entirely.
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> [Oh and click here for what Harrys house looks like.](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com/post/133921448951/thevintageloserforever-express-your-inner)
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> _(Ignore the stuff I typed on the actual post, I was originally going to use this for a different story.)_
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> I'll shut up now. 
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> Enjoy!

5402 Oak Drive

The location Louis Tomlinson is forced to go to today. 

A few days ago, Louis sat in the library concocting his outline for his latest assignment, when his phone rang. Buzzing loudly in the front pocket of his dirty backpack. The librarian giving him a sour look but not attempting to shush him, she was mean but Louis was a regular on this side of campus. He is number four in the school after all, also doesn't mean he has to act like it either. Setting down his array of different colour highlighters, he bends over, unzipping the pocket with a satisfying sound as he grabs his cracked mobile. 

“Ello?” The number was unknown, something he’s use to by now. A low voice boomed from the other side making Louis almost drop the cell.

“Is this Louis Tomlinson?” The seemingly older man asked with a formal tone. Maybe he won that scholarship in that creative writing competion he entered.

“Uh, yes sir, this is he.” He responds, molding his voice into a polite way of speech.  
  
“Magnificent! Mrs. Blake recommended I call you, she says you’re the best English tutor on this side of the country.” Flattery will get you everywhere. 

So this is what the call was about, he had been Mrs. Blakes aid in her freshman English class last year. She’s always handing out his name to people that need a little help. Very kind of her actually, from days of being around each other and the knowledge of Louis being at school completely on scholarship, she knew he was in need of any money he could get. She suggested he start tutoring, his ranking in school was proof enough that he was qualified, and people would throw cash at him to get a sliver of his knowledge. Her words, not his. So here he is, he’s lost count of how many people he’s tutored in the past. Some need more help then other. There are kids who need a couple tweaks here and there, then there are the ones that more than likely had to of slept all four years of high school to be at the level they are. 

“Oh I wouldn't say that sir!” Louis laughs, “But yes I do tutor in the subject of English. Is it you who needs help?” A throaty chuckle comes through the other end.

“No no, I am way beyond my years to be needing an English Tutor. Its for my son, Harry.” His tone was annoyed when the name slipped out of his mouth, making Louis raise a silent eyebrow. Uh oh, it’s never a good start when the parents have to call the tutor. He’s figured out when that happens, it usually means the kid is unwilling. Great.

“Oh alright then sir.” Louis quickly turns the page in his spiral notebook to a blank sheet and uncaps his pen with his sharp teeth. “What is the last name?”

“Styles.” He answers curtly, knowing there is bound to be a strand of questions following.  
  
“Styles. Okay, and what grade is your son in sir, and what age is he?”  
  
“He is in his second year, and he is twenty years old.” Louis quickly scribbles down the information, trying his hardest to be quick but legible.

“Okay and is there a specific project or paper he is having a hard time on or does he just need general tutoring in English?” Louis questions. The line is silent for a second to long that Louis looks at his phone screen just incase, but the seconds were still ticking away.

“General tutoring I believe.” Mr. Styles’, he assumed, voice was quieter now. Odd behavior, but not unseen to Louis before. His best guess, disappointed parent. He hated those, it just puts him under more pressure to help the student.

“So this will be more of a long term thing I’m guessing then?” Louis ask, even though he knows the answer.  
  
“Yes, more than likely. And no need to worry about payment, I assure you I’ll make up for the hardships you might endure with my, son.” Thats never a good sentence. What is this kid, satan? “Three hundred a session sound good to you?” Louis drops his pen somewhere in the vicinity of his feet.  
  
Bring on the Lord of Darkness!

“Th-three hundred sir? Im sure that’s a little much.” Please don’t agree. Please.  
  
“It’s no trouble! Of course we would like to see results as repayment, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Louis went from baffled to slightly intimidated. What if he can’t get this kid to respond? What if he has actual learning disabilities, Louis isn't equipped for that. What if this kid does magic spells and puts a hex on him. Oh lord. He clears his throat.

“Oh certainly sir. No problem at all.” He managed to remove all shakiness out of his voice, opting for fake confidence. “When would you like to start?” Louis bends down to retrieve his forgotten pen. 

“As soon as possible if that is okay with you. I would like it to be a bi-weekly session if that could be arranged. He has his class spread over two days, so I assume that would be more efficient.” It’s not the first time he’s been asked to do two sessions a week, but it’s not making him feel better about Satan. 

“Yes that should be no problem. Would Wednesday and Friday be good for him? Around six pm?” Louis is only tutoring a few other people at the moment and none of them are really struggling very hard, just trying to get an A plus instead of an A minus, so he has time to put himself into this one. 

“That should be fine. He doesn’t do very much to begin with.” Bitterness, Louis cringes. Lets hope this father doesn't monitor the sessions as well, this man is already to much. Louis writes down the time and days. 

“Okay sir. Now, are Harry and I going to meet somewhere on campus, or would you prefer that I come to your location.”

“I would rather you came to our house. The less distractions the better. Our address is 5402 Oak Drive. Its very hard to miss, but our last name is also on our mailbox out front if you're having difficulties.” He scribbles the address down, setting his pen down and slapping the thin notebook shut.

“Okay! I think I have everything I need, I’ll see you on Wednesday at six pm. Would you mind letting your son know that he should have all his English materials, including his semester outline, ready when I arrive? It makes things move along smoother.”  
  
“Yes I will let him know. See you soon Mr. Tomlinson.” The line went silent with out another word. He set his phone down has he leaned back on his chair, cracking his back, sore from being hunched over books. A yawn escaped the back of his throat involuntarily and he glances down at his watch. Eight o’clock, should be getting back soon, curfew is at ten for the dorms. Why is a twenty two year old man living in the dorms? Its free. The school said he can stay when he starts his masters program as well. Its better to focus on school than half focus while working a full time job and paying bills no? He’s gotten use to the community bathrooms and shared kitchen, he has a microwave in his single room anyways, but no one needs to know that. 

Louis gathers his multiple writing utensils and stuffs them into his metallic pink pen bag. A back to school present from his little sister mind you. He stacks his notebooks and slides them easily into his bag. Depositing his mobile back into the front pocket and zipping it up. He quickly put every thing else in and stands up, slinging the green bag over his shoulder. He bends down to his right and snatches his worn out skateboard from the carpeted floor, tucking it under his arm, the top of the board scraps at his skin with a sandpaper texture.

The whole ride to the dorms he thinks about the different scenarios that could happen on Wednesday. And lets just say none of them were particularly good, and most of them involved getting his soul taken away? 

Maybe he’s being dramatic…Maybe.

So that is how he ends up riding his skateboard down a long smooth concrete sidewalk in the suburbs somewhere out side of the university. He holds the small paper he tore out of his notebook like his life depended on it in his hand, the wind trying to sweep it from his grasp. The houses he passes are all a different size, shape, or style, though every house could more than likely fit a soccer field in it. He was utterly impressed and annoyed at the same time. Dreaming one day he could buy his mother and sisters a house like these, maybe even himself one when he finds the right person to settle down forever with.

The grass on every lawn was a bright green and obviously fake, because grass just didn’t actually look that good right? The horizon held a setting sun, gradient colours of pink and yellow painting the sky behind it with beautiful strokes. Its moments like these that Louis like to let sink into his bones. The cool wind kissing his face as he cuts through the air on his board, the fresh smell of clean laundry pouring out of one or more of the houses, the sky giving him permission to see the beauty that is itself, everything is perfect, and he feels a pang of emotion settle into his gut, that he gets to see moments like these. The quiet and forgotten about beauty of the world. 

The bolded word ‘Styles’ comes into view in the distance. Delicately painted red lettering on a crisp white mailbox. He skids to a halt as he comes within a few feet of the mailbox, glancing at the oversized house. It was very pretty, redbrick coating the whole house and the long walkway leading to it. A whole section in a cylinder form protrudes from the house more so than the rest with a mass of square windows every where you look. Everything is outlined in beautiful white marble, and a simple landscape accents the house just right. A large tree, green leaves still sticking to its thick branches, and a simple mass of shrubbery near the door. At the top of the cylinder shape there is a row of four identical windows. Louis thinks if he ever lived here, thats where he’d want to be, probably able to see the rise of the sun and the brightness of the moon at night perfectly. A figure moves across said windows, making a nervous jolt of energy surge throughout his body. 

Right he’s here for a reason, Satan. He jabs his van coated foot to the end of his board, carelessly popping it up as he catches it. Louis shakes a hand through his hair to fix the un-naturally messy fringe that sits a top his head, windblown from the skate over here. He glances down at himself, a simple t-shirt with some odd design and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. He looks back up at the house, mm, maybe he should have worn some different pants. He walks through the corridor, heavy steps echoing off the small interior shrouded in darkness. 

He sets his board beside the wide double doors, intricate designs carved into the hard wood making louis think the house is older than it appears, rich vintage, he leans the piece of wood against the stone wall, assuming the neighborhood is to nice for someone to steal his stuff. He brings his hand up to the round illuminated button and presses down. 

He feels sick. He can hear the odd melody play inside, ringing throughout the large house. Probably disturbing more than one person. Maybe he should have knocked… He doesn't know why he’s nervous. The pay being so large? The ominous way the man spoke to him about his own son? Rip it off like a bandaid, lets go. As if on cue, one of the large doors creaks open. A slender blonde man stands there, adorned in a stiff tuxedo esque attire, even has a pair of thin cloth gloves on. The man can’t be older than Louis, definitely not. 

“Mr. Tomlinson I presume?” A thick irish accent says, accompanied by a bright smile. They have a butler. Wow. Okay. Is that allowed?  
  
“Uh, yes sir?” Not really knowing if he was suppose to address this young man formally he settles for a default yes, he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous itch.  
“Follow me then sir.” Tacking on another bright smile he fully widens the door, stepping aside to let Louis enter. He’s instantly awed by the large crystal and glass chandlers looming over his head, it looks so delicate but so monstrous. The cold marble floor seeps up to his un socked feet through his shoes, making louis look down at the swirls of black melding with the brightness of the white. Its so pretty louis want to eat it, reminding him of cookies and cream, just now remembering he forgot to eat lunch. 

The door behind him shuts with a gust of air, the ghost of it hitting Louis’ arm. The blonde man suddenly appears in front of him again, but this time Louis is staring at the back of his head, noticing the hard collar digging into his hair line a bit, looks uncomfortable, but the man seems cheerful enough Louis settles. 

“Right this way.” The butler (?) glances back to make sure Louis is following him as he leads him through the maze, the quick steps of the butler keeps Louis from openly gawking at the interior the beautiful, three (?) story mansion. It makes Louis internally sad that he couldn’t look around more, but he is going to be here quite often it seems. He shall creep another time.

They pass a ginormous kitchen, furnished with every new and sleek appliance one can imagine. The kitchen leads into a medium sized room with bookcases as the walls, filled to the edge with what seems like every classic or old book there is. The smell of paper overwhelming his senses, he’s in heaven, being an English major that is, multiple copies from different ages sit beside each other in alphabetical order. Louis’ going to pass out. He hadn’t realized they stopped walking until a light chuckle comes from somewhere beside him. The blonde man is looking at Louis with amusement in his eyes.

“You like books then? It’s the Lady of the houses collection. She’s quite the enthusiast herself.” He speaks, accent dripping off his voice.  
  
“I am an English tutor no? I honestly thought I was going to pass out.” Louis relaxes into the presence of the other, there really isn't anything to be nervous about with a smile like that directed at him. 

“Well I am qualified in CPR just in case.” Louis laughs.  
  
“Good to know mate. I’ll try to contain myself.”  
  
“Mr. Styles should be here momentarily. If you would just like to have a seat I’ll go and fetch him.” Louis nods in agreement and makes his way over to a plush velvet purple couch, outlined in gold, tassels hanging off the armrest. A feeling that it might be worth more than Louis college education crosses his mind. Heavy footsteps suddenly echo throughout the room.

“Mr. Tomlinson! Right on time I see. I hope Nial was good to you.” Mr. Styles says as he claps the blonde butler, who's name appears to me Nial, on the back. 

“I was just going to get Harry, is that alright sir?” Nial asks, his back still facing Louis in his attempt to leave the room.  
  
“Ah. Yes, tell him to hurry, I told him thirty minutes ago he should have been down here.” He says with an annoyed tone. Nial nods and scurries off, the faint sound of feet running up the stairs is heard in the distance. Louis turns his attention back to the middle aged man in front of him, dressed in an expensive gray suit, golden cuff links shining under the extravagant light hung over head, hair slicked back tightly, shoes that are most likely shined every morning sparkle with reflection. Thick eyebrows accent his dull brown eyes, giving Louis an uneasy feeling. 

Louis stands up, crossing the short distance to shake the mans hand, the cold hard grip making louis wish he was sitting on the overly expensive couch again. 

“Nice to meet you sir. You can just call me Louis is you prefer.” They break the hold, wishing he could rub his smaller hand to extinguish the pain from the tight grip.

“Of course, I do apologize that Harry wasn’t ready when you arrived. He has some… behavioral issues.” Mr. Styles states. Great. 

“I don’t have behavioral issues father.” A deep voice chimes in somewhere out of sight. Mr. Styles grunts, turning his head to look over his shoulder. A tall figure rounds the corner, long legs shoved tightly into a pair of skinny jeans stop short of Louis being able to see his face, due to a just as tall Mr. Styles standing directly in front of him. 

“Then maybe you should learn some manners, you shouldn't make your guest wait.” Mr. Styles responds with a snap in his voice. Louis is looking anywhere but up, he hates being in the middle of personal affairs, its just awkward. The marble floor in this room is a dark black, opposite from the walk in, white tendrils flow easily into darkness. Its quite beautiful.

“He’s not my guest. I never agreed to this.” Ouch, just what Louis figured. Unwilling, but Louis is standing right here, now come on, he is human. 

“Harry.” His voice sounded tired, “You need help in English, we won't have anymore C’s in my house, I told you what would happen. Now don't be rude.” Apparently what ever it is that Mr. Styles said would happen snapped him back into reality, a low growl surfacing in the young mans throat. Louis still isn't looking up but he can hear socked feet dragging slowly towards himself. In his peripheral he can see Mr. Styles moving aside, the blurry figure coming closer from what he can tell without really looking. 

“This is Louis Tomlinson. Highest recommended English tutor at LU, and you better take advantage of that son.” The now strict voice of Mr. Styles says.

Louis assumes this is his cue to look up, so he does. Taking in the sight before him, its a beautiful one at that. The legs he got a look at earlier are attached to an equally long torso, clothed in an oversized gray sweater that hangs below the mans pockets, hiding his figure. His arms are crossed in a defensive manner over his chest, complete with sweater paws, hiding whatever kind of hands this man might posses. His neck is long and smooth, adams apple bobbing in rhythm to his breathing, which seems to be slightly erratic. A very thin layer of scruff outlines the most perfect pair of lips Louis has ever seen, abnormally red although there are no signs of artificial forces. An attractive beauty mark is placed daintily between his mouth and his jaw, drawing more attention to said lips, he wants to make a banana split with those lips, lick the ice-cream right off them. Woah. A curly hair hanging loosely against the mans face catches his attention, letting him admire the curly wisps of hair flowing down off the taller mans head, stopping right below his wide set shoulders and tickling his collar bone. He makes his way down to striking green eyes, and Louis is pretty sure he stopped breathing. They are looking directly at him, staring into the depths of his soul. They look almost, scared? Louis body trembles slightly, crossing his fingers that no one saw that. 

Harry is just staring at him, he stopped walking seconds ago, so Louis does what he needs to do to break the heavy tension clinging to the air. With all the energy and professionalism he can muster, he takes two steps forward, watching the facial expression on Harry’s face morph into something he can’t quite put his finger on. Louis holds his hand out for the other to shake, the other visibly flinching at the sudden movement. 

Odd.

“Hi I’m Louis.” He speaks, albeit a little breathlessly. The mans eyes leave Louis’, finding something to the left of him more interesting. He drops his arms from the hold they had on each other in a heavy motion, his left hand peaking out of his sleeve to comb through his hair. Maybe a nervous habit? Maybe a ‘this is the last place I want to be’ gesture? This close Louis has to actually strain his neck to look up. The other man being at least a half head taller then himself.

Harrys other hand slowly comes up as his left drops down to smack against his thigh, more than likely relying on his peripheral vision to find Louis hand, large warm fingers are lightly gripping Louis’, as if to use the least amount of pressure as possible, a feather light touch, just passable as a hand shake through the eyes of Harrys father he supposes. He tries to squeeze back, to grip the beautiful hand that’s in his more thoroughly but Harry is already pulling away. A light shock ignites between the tips of their fingers as the handshake finishes, making Louis jump a little bit at the sudden spark. Is this a real life metaphor? Did they just spark? Louis needs to control himself. Harry equally jumps at the sudden surge of electricity, clutching his hand as he stares daggers at the ground. 

He assumes, Harry’s not going to say anything more in the introduction category, so Louis turns to Mr. Styles. The older man looking on with disappointment straight at his son. Louis feels kind of bad for the beautiful kid. 

“I think we have it from here Mr. Styles! No worries, Im sure you're a busy man. Or, did you want to sit in on the session.” Mr. Styles demeanor took a one eighty, turning his body fully to Louis, all hints of dark emotion seeming to have washed away by the time he meets Louis eyes.

“Ah yes, if you insist every thing is alright,” He gives his son a hard stare, “I do have work to get done. Nial is always close by, when you need to leave he’ll show you to the door. Have a nice day Louis.”

“You as well sir!” He calls out as the older man practically stomps out of the room, not a glance back at his son. The tall figure scoots around Louis, dragging his feet like the movement of walking six feet is such an exhausting task. 

“Kiss ass.” The curly headed boy mumbles sitting on the couch. And, what? 

“Excuse me?” Louis ask, letting his accent come out more now that he doesn’t need to have an uptight conversation with Mr. Styles. An almost unnoticeable flush creeps over the soft looking sweater to Harrys neck. If Louis wasn't staring so hard he probably would have missed it. Harry mumbles a nothing in response. Louis, being the nice person he is, grunts as a response and ignores the situation.

Walking to the couch that Harry is now sitting on, he swings his back pack off his shoulder, throwing it to the ground with a loud thump due to the weight of his books. Harry flinches at the sudden noise and is practically sitting on the arm rest by the time Louis takes his seat on the couch, a good foot of distance between the two. Louis discretely sniffs his underarms, wondering if he smells like trash or something, not completely comprehending the behavior of the younger boy next to him. He only smells the strong deodorant still doing its job. Mm, weird. 

“Uhm, do you have your outline and other materials from your class?” Louis ask, voice soft as not to startle the Bambi that is Harry Styles. 

Harry hooks the edges his fingers under the black straps that sit on his shoulders, how did Louis not notice he had a backpack on? Oh yeah, he was to busy having teenage wet dreams in his head. Maybe it’s good if this strange man is a brat, he won’t get as distracted by his ungodly looks if the guy is to busy being the devil. 

He brings the plain black back pack around to sit on his lap, unzipping the large pocket with the tips of his fingers, making sure not to let any other part of his hand slip out of the sweater cocoon. 

Maybe he’s a really cold guy? We’ll go with that.

He watches on as Harry sets down carelessly crinkled papers on the mahogany coffee table that lay in front of their knees, each one worse than the next. Harry glares at the inside of his bag as a certain group of papers refuse to come out from beneath a heavy text book. He yanks hard, an audible rip heard throughout the room. A low growl, if given under any other circumstances would have made Louis all hot and bothered, releases from Harrys throat as he rips the papers out in multiple pieces, slamming them on the hard table, making the silver chest set on the other end rattle, losing a couple knights in the process. 

Louis eye’s widen, his brain goes back to Harrys father and his comment about ‘behavioral issues’. Maybe he wasn’t to far off…

So Louis does what he usually does under circumstances that make him nervous, he jokes around. He lets out a nervous laugh as the hot headed man stares laser beams into the ripped pages on the coffee table. 

“Alright there Hercules, I think the papers have learned their lesson.” A flush forms on Harrys cheeks at the words, Louis almost thought it was cute till his mouth opened. 

“Why are you even here? I don’t need help.” Well, Louis was not expecting that. Harry is talking to him, mind you the first time since they met five minutes ago, and he isn't even looking at him. Just staring at the table with an angry gaze, holding a scrap of ripped paper in his finger tips, flush against his cheeks.

“Uhm, Im here because your dad called me and Im getting paid, but I wont get paid if you don’t get better grades so therefor we need to do work, not rip papers to shreds, that happens…” Feeling confident, Louis plucks the scrap from between the other mans fingers, startling him further into the couch. “to be the outline I needed to see.” Louis says, starting to gain his confidence back, since the boys strong stare is no longer set on him. He begins to jigsaw puzzle the pieces of the outline together, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stares down at the coffee table trying to decipher what goes where. 

When he doesn't get an immediate response out of Harry, he glances over, immediately regretting that decision when he realizes that the glare the coffee table received was now, directly pointed at him. Louis face heats up at the burning stare. 

“I can get better grades with out you.” Even in his flush state Louis raises a questioning eyebrow. He’s not cocky okay, but he’s never failed at helping a student at least improve a little bit. He’s the top English major in their university. He has two options, go the sassy route which he might survive, or be the dick he wish he could be, which, might not end so well. He notices the inward way the boy beside him is folding in on himself, arms wrapped tightly around his sweater shielded torso, voice light, almost nervous, almost not convincing, but his facial expression is still twisted into one of angry. Sooo, Louis thinks he’ll go the sassy route, he doesn’t think Harry quite deserves the wrath of dickface Louis yet, and he isn't quite ready to give up three hundred dollars a week. So.

“Alright then.” Louis says turning to fully face Harry, they lock eyes, and Louis has to shake his head to get control of himself, pretty asshole. Harrys face changes into confusion, as he tracks every movement of Louis’ with his eyes. 

Louis leans to his left, and reaches in his back pocket, pulling out his black touchscreen thats actually pretty dangerous to touch due to the many times Louis fell on his ass with it in his back pocket, multiple deep cracks accessorize the glass. Phone in hand, he uses his feet planted to the ground to catapult himself back so his back is resting on the armrest opposite of Harry. Legs pulled up to his chest, his dirt and grime covered shoes sit a top the expensive velvet. Louis internally cringing, knowing its rude to put your shoes on someone else furniture, especially when it undoubtedly cost more than louis house, but he needed to get some kind of reaction out of this guy.

“I’ll just sit here and play on my phone, and you can go ahead and do your work and get one hundreds on all of it.” Louis says with a fake smile, as he stares at Harry staring back at him, mouth slightly agape. 

“I mean Im getting paid either way, less work for me I guess huh?” Louis says with annoyingly fake enthusiasm and a shrug of his shoulders. Thank god for high school drama class.

“I’ll just sit here for another oh…” Louis glances down at his wrist, “forty-five minutes. No one will be the wiser.” Louis looks down at his phone, going through his apps till he decided that angry birds would do. Who cares if its so 2011, not him. He feels the couch respond to movement, looking through his eyelashes he sees Harrys’ face is still flushed, but he’s leaning over a notebook, a crinkled paper in front of him. His coffee colored curls hang freely in front of him, shadowing his paper in dark gray.

Louis has a plan okay?

He knows more than likely the kid will ask for help, he’s not really going to sit there and attempt work they both know he struggles with when he has the best English tutor in the school right beside him. He’s really not that hard headed is he?

-

He is. 

After achieving five gold stars on every expert level, he still couldn’t believe this guy was still sitting there doing work. Forty five whole minutes that he just honestly let him sit there and play angry birds with his dirty feet on his expensive couch. Wow.

Louis feels a pang of guilt once he sits up noticing that only half the notebook page is filled with writing. That’s all he did in almost an hour. Uh oh. If this is the level Harry was at, why is he refusing to let Louis help him? He’ll figure it next time he supposes. 

He clears his throat, he can see Harry looking at him as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head, being in one position that long really didn't feel good. He can feel his shirt ride up, a breeze from the cracked window making the taunt skin on his stomach goosebump. Louis lowers his arms and adjust his shirt, quickly reaching down he pulls his heavy back pack up by one discolored strap and deposits it on his shoulder. The heavy weight of the books forcing the strap to dig into his skin uncomfortably. 

Louis turns around then, Harry is looking anywhere but Louis, his now closed spiral sits idly on the coffee table. The sun is officially gone, the heavy drapes behind the couch are pulled tightly to either side, held back by strong gold toned rope. Louis admires the moon for a second, maybe even admires the way it illuminates the the back of Harry like he actually isn’t the spawn of Satan. 

“I’ll be off then. Nice to meet you, I guess.” The uncertainty in Louis voice is evident, and he wants to punch himself for it. 

Harry doesn't look at him, nor does he respond verbally. He’s sits there, looking at the coffee table that apparently deserves more attention than Louis, he’s tucked his long legs under himself indian styles, when did that happen? He looks like he’s sulking, why is he sulking! This guy is seriously…. 

Louis lets out a huff of air in frustration. Over the building silence. When he spins around, a bright smile greats him. Nial stands in the doorway, stood in a naturally stiff posture.

“I’ll show you to the door sir.” He explains. Louis practically runs to him, the mood in the room so heavy he was going to suffocate if he didn't get out of there. A chuckle escapes Nials lips as he looks past Louis and gives Harry a polite nod. 

“Good evening sir. Study session go well?” He asks in a slightly teasing tone, like he knew it didn't go well to begin with. Maybe he was just standing outside of the door the whole time? Shit. Was he going to tell Mr. Styles that he sat on his phone the whole session, Nial seems to nice for that… Fuck, well, either way he’s screwed really. Tutor the devil or be broke as hell, neither sound to appealing especially because the Devil is probably one of the most gorgeous men he’s ever laid eyes on. 

Harry stands up with more energy than Louis has seen him use all night. Meeting Nials gaze but not Louis, he forms a sarcastic smile as he strolls towards the doorway they're all standing in .

“Oh it was fuckin’ peachy Niall. Do inform father that I’ll be jumping out of my window at promptly at eleven o'clock tonight into the shallow end of the pool, will ya?” Harry says as his words drown in fake sunshine and sarcasm, he walks past the two men, not sparing a glance at Louis as he starts his way up the marble stair case. First, what a beautiful voice. Second, what a beautiful piece of shit. Is this how it’s gonna be then? 

“See ya Friday Styles. If you make it till then I suppose.” Louis shouts up the stairs, he can see the muscles in Harrys back stiffen under the thick sweater. 

“What?” Harry grits out between locked teeth, his back is still facing the two men at the bottom of the stairs. Wait, Louis wasn’t actually expecting a response… 

“Your father suggested us lads have a bi-weekly schedule of course. So I can give you all the knowledge I can squeeze out of my beautiful head.” Louis is tired of shouting. Harry stands there for a few seconds. Then with out a word, stomps, stomps like a four year old child up the stairs. Louis quickly looks up as the chandelier rattles with vibrations from the slam of a door somewhere above it. Presumably, Harrys door.

“Well I’d say thats my cue to leave.” Louis says with a shrug as he turns to Niall, somehow even after that scene, Niall still has an even smile set to his mouth. He politely nods his head as they start to weave their way through the large house. 

With the front door in sight, Louis’ curiosity gets the better of him. 

“Is he always like that then?” Nial jumps at the sudden start at conversation, turning around as they reach the door. An almost sad smile plays on the blonde boys lips. 

“Not exactly like that, but not to far off honestly. He has some really good sides to him, being around his whole life I know that first hand. He’s just a little, difficult. I wish you luck on friday, maybe he’ll accept you’ll help.” So he was spying on them, but maybe thats in the job description of being a butler? Louis nods, storing the information that maybe Harry does have a soul in the back of his brain. 

“Oh and this is for you. Don’t feel guilty for taking the money, we all know Harry can be hardheaded. Im sure you’ll have better luck next time.” Niall states as he holds out a white envelope with Louis’ last name artfully written in calligraphy on the front. Is Nial a psychic now too? Also probably in the job description, totally. Louis nods, taking the envelope and folding it in half to stick into his back pocket, along with his phone. 

Niall opens the heavy wood doors for Louis to step out. Once he’s outside, he feels the bitter bite of the night time air. Giving a last smile Louis’ way, Niall shuts the door. His skateboard is exactly where he left it, not that he really had any doubt it wouldn't be. He walks down the red brick path way, stopping to admire the clear constellations evident in the dark night sky, the air was sharp, and generally just made him happy that he wasn’t in that room with Harry anymore, stuffy and filled with tension and the frustrating part is he doesn't even know why! 

Louis catches movement to his left, he brings his head back down to glance at the house. In the middle window at the top of the bricked house sits Harry Styles, framed by dark red curtains on either side of him, moonlight bouncing off his features in all the right ways, and he’s staring, right at Louis. 

Louis stares back, and he doesn't know why, maybe its the sad expression the younger man wears on his porcelain face, an expression Louis hadn’t seen at all that night, eyes dull and droopy. Then, all he saw was red, the curtains suddenly drawn tight. Cutting the gaze to a halt. Louis shook his head out of the trance he was set in, still not really understanding whats going on. 

At all.


	2. Louis' Nose Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  The title has officially changed to **Dark Paradise** and not _The Black Out Days_ ,  
> If there are any objections speak now!  
> No?  
> Kae cool.  
>   
>   
>  **Disclaimer:**  
>  I do not own One Direction, nor anything involving One Direction. I am a lowly peasant who sits upon her bed till 6 am writing about them. This story in no way reflects upon the boys true nature. It is a work of fiction and that is all. Id prefer if you didn't share this story with any of the boys personally or their families.  
> Good? Good.
> 
>  
> 
> **Chapter Warnings:**  
>  Lots of cussing? And some recreational drug use.
> 
>    
>   
>  **Songs to Listen to as you read:**  
>   
> 
> [Muse - Starlight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pgum6OT_VH8)  
> [Lana Del Rey - Cruel World](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1BdZLKlfOG8)  
> [The Strokes - Machu Picchu](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JxoUo43Zg8)
> 
>    
>   
>  
> 
> _They pretty much go in order of how I personally would listen to the songs. <3 But do whatchu want my friend. Also, Cruel World is a very Harry esque song, i love it. _
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>   [\- How I picture Louis and Harry.](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com/post/134861887371/darklarryismymiddlename-stylinsonarchive)  
>   
> [\- How I picture Zayn](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com/post/134861662291)  
>   
> [\- Couch](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com/post/134452173756/wayfaircom)  
>   
> [\- Oh and I made a thing, like a collage?](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com/post/134863901561/dark-paradise-author-thealieninsideme)  
>   
>  _(Kinda gives you some hints? Maybe? eh.)_
> 
>    
> Enjoy!

“What a jerk though.” Liam says while he crunches down on another carrot, his brown eyes carelessly gazing towards the ceiling.

“I mean, Ive never met anyone who doesn't like you.” Louis shrugs as he picks up a carrot and dips it into the ranch delicately placed by Liams sprawled out body lying on his dorm room floor. 

Louis had just recounted his “tutoring session” from yesterday that involved more angry words and angry birds than he would have liked to admit to his best friend. It was all just meticulously frustrating, he even dreamt about the ominous stare the boy had given him when he left the house. It happened to involve various potions and voodoo dolls so Louis wasn’t going to tell Liam about that since he neither wanted to tell him about his passing thoughts that the kid might be Lucifer reincarnated. 

“I know, I mean, I don’t get it. He only had half a paper filled out after forty five minutes! Forty five minutes Liam! I could have written a two thousand word essay in that amount of time. Why wouldn't he want my help?” Louis lets out a puff of air in defeat and throws himself back on his plush carpet. It was a rich shade of purple and soft as cashmere, almost covering all blank floor space available in his room. It was one of the first things he bought when he got to university and he doesn’t regret one cent of it. 

“You said his dad was kind of a dick right? Maybe he just doesn’t want to get help to get back at him. You said they were the rich type, Im sure they have nothing better to do than to fight with each other.” Liam inserts with a nonchalant flick of his wrist.   
Liam was like Louis, attending University completely on scholarship, so he also knew the hardships of living life cent to cent.

Louis and Liam were dorm mates his freshman year before Louis had the luxury of a single room, and honestly they pretty much hated each other at first.

It all seems like a smeared dream because in this time in his life Louis wouldn't replace Liam for anything. They were just opposites, Liam was a clean freak while Louis, well he wasn’t. He really didn’t, and still doesn't, see the big ordeal of a few articles of clothing lying about on the floor, or a popcorn bag on a desk for a few (?) days. It didn't even smell. Liam said he felt like he was living in a movie theater, Louis also couldn't see a problem with that either. 

Liam is also a physical therapy major, so he worked out like a mad man and had to take all those fancy nutrition classes that make you scared to eat anything that isn't grown right in front of you. He tried to enforce a more ‘healthy’ diet on Louis which included all organic veggies and basically no meat because “organic meat is outrageously priced”, according to Liam, and well, that didn’t go over so good. At all. Louis almost literally bit Liam’s head off just to get some meat into his system. 

Liam backed off after that.

Once they stopped fighting and realized they actually had a lot of things in common it was smooth sailing. They both were at school on scholarship, they both loved breaking bad, Arcade Fire was both their favorite band and it was the cherry on top that they both could oogle the hot footie players together because they equally shared the gene known as gay. And yes, there may have been a few drunken make outs between the two but really those are just funny stories now a days. 

“I never really thought of that. I mean I guess that could be a reason huh?” Louis says, thinking out loud. He can see the sun setting through the haze of his tapestry hanging over his window in a make shift curtain, sadly, he’s too lazy to get up and bask in the beauty of it right now.

“But, his dad left right at the beginning, he wouldn’t even know if we did work or not.” He pushes his eyebrows together in contemplation, Liam appears to be doing the same. Tapping a muscled finger against his stubble filled chin, Louis tells him to shave it but Liam says he looks more manly with it. So. Each to their own he guesses.

“What if he has cameras in the room!” Liam shouts as he shoots up, successfully knocking the ranch onto his carpet.

“You piece of shit.” Louis growls, rolling over on his stomach to grab his towel hanging on his chair from earlier in the day. He sits up and begins to wipe up the creamy substance, trying not to let it sink into his favorite carpet. Louis can’t really get mad, he’s spilt way more things on this carpet than Liam ever has. 

“Ah Im sorry.” Liam hops to his feet and picks up the small cup who's contents are now emptied onto his floor. 

“Yeah yeah, its fine.” Louis says still dabbing away at the spot. He hates the smell of ranch.  
“But really Liam, what if they do have cameras. Remind me to check tomorrow. There are so many books in that room I’m sure there is like a hidden camera somewhere.” Louis says standing up and throwing his soiled towel into the general area of his mesh laundry bin. 

He misses.

He leaves it. 

Liam twist his face into one of disgust and quickly walks over to it, picking it up with the tips of his fingers, he gently places it inside his overfilled bin. Louis laughs at the hilariously distorted face of his best friend. Liam flips him off and then proceeds to jump and slam his body onto Louis annoyingly hard bed.

“Yeah I’ll remind you.” Liam says picking at his finger nail. “Did you jizz your pants with all those books? I could see it happening.” Louis proceeds to throw an old shirt at Liams face, and if he’s correct thats the shirt he may or may not have wiped his cum on that morning. Liams face is priceless. Really, Louis needs a camera. Liam throws the slightly hard shirt back at Louis.

“Dick!” Liam says as he wipes his face with the bottom of his own shirt.

“Prick.”  Louis grins.

-

Friday evening starts to roll around to soon. He doesn’t have any classes on friday because he opted to have all of his classes on the first four days of the week, no one likes friday classes anyways. Everyone has to much energy built up for the night to come and really no one pays attention because they're to busy texting each other where the next kegger will be for the night.   
Louis finished his required reading earlier in the day and started on his thirty page long term paper that isn't due for a couple more months, but he likes to get ahead okay? 

He shuts his laptop with a click and sets it on top of his heavy blanket. Louis gets up, cracks echo through his tired bones.

Porno by Arcade Fire starts loudly playing somewhere behind Louis, he slowly turns around. Still not really in the mood to fully move yet. That was Liam's ringtone. He grabs the singing device and swipes the screen.

"Booty call central for all your booty call needs. How can I help you on this dreadful day?" Louis greets bringing the phone to his ear. He can hear Liam chuckle from the other end.

"Sorry sir. I seem to have the wrong number. I was trying to reach my dick head of a best friend." Liam counters.

"Ha ha. Funny." Louis says with a roll of his eyes even though Liam can't see him.  
Louis drops his phone face side up on top of his bed, pressing the speaker option before tearing his two day old shirt off his body. He walks over to his built in dresser, pulling open a drawer that contains an array of sweaters and T-shirts mixed together. It is suppose to be cold today, even though he hasn't stepped a foot outside, he gets weather updates on his phone okay?  
Shut up.

"I was just calling to see if you were still going to your session with rude rich boy, because if not, me and Andy were having a FIFA party at his apartment with a couple other people. I'm bringing vegetarian pizza and light beer!" Louis face scrunches up in disgust as he settles on a knitted maroon jumper, pulling it over his head.

"Yes I'm still going. Would you like me to remind you how much I'm getting paid for this shit? He can cook me and eat me for dinner if he'll pay me afterwards. Also, light beer and vegetarian pizza is not really making me excited to come to this shindig." Louis states even though obviously he's going to go, he is the master of FIFA, and where there is FIFA there is Louis, but he's bring his own god damn food and alcohol. Liam is gross.   
"Oi, atleast I'm having fun and being healthy! Also, who says shindig. Aren't you an English major? Didn't that word expire like fifty years ago?" Louis laughs as he shucks his sweat pants off landing somewhere in the corner of his room. Picking up a pair of jeans laying beside his feet, his sniffs them for a general read at how long they've been there.

Eh, two days tops. They'll do. He slides one leg in, hopping as he looses his balance in attempt to get his other leg into the unimaginably tight jeans, but they make his butt look good, so, beauty is pain.

"First, words don't expire. They aren't milk Liam. Second, yes I'll be there but I probably won't show up till around seven thirty." Zipping up his fly he struts over to his phone, taking it off speaker and puts it to his ear. Liam grunts from the other side in agreement.

"Kae, well I'll see you then yeah?" Liam ask, Louis can hear him cutting something on the other side of the line.

"You're not making your own vegetarian pizza are you Li?" Louis ask, slipping his bare feet into his black shoes.

"Yes I am. Fuck off, it's going to be amazing." Louis starts laughing, almost painfully hard, Liam is so odd. 

"Stop laughing ya jerk. I hope you get eaten at your study session." That statement only makes Louis laugh harder. Jesus. He can't breath. By the time he gets his breathing under control he realizes that Liam has already hung up.

He slips his phone into his back pocket, and walks over to his mirror, dipping his hand into his usual wax product, he sculpts his hair into it's regular messy attire before rolling some deodorant on. Smellin' fresh. He gives himself a wink in the mirror before turning around, grabbing his back pack and skateboard off the floor, he turns off the lights but not before grabbing his book Leaves of Grass from the edge of his dresser.

Before they both got hard headed yesterday, he read that that's their next book to read in Harry's class. 

Louis, already having taken that class, obviously, had his own copy. Completely high lighted and annotated for his own enjoyment.

He is not playing angry birds for another hour today, he refuses. They are going to get shit done. 

Hopefully.

-

When Louis arrives his nose is raw, his fingers feel like they're going to fall off and he's pretty sure one of his toes has frost bite. That's what he gets for not having a car and for listening to that idiot of a weather man.

He picks up his board with numb fingers, and turns to the magnificent brick house that looms over him. As he walks down the path way he tries to shove his hand that's not carrying his board as deep down into his pocket as possible.

He's staring at the heavy wood doors, taking time to observe the intricate scenes carved into it before ringing the door bell. It seems to be scenes from the Bible, if the angels flying over each scene has anything to do with it. Louis purses his lips, he's never been very into religion. It's a nice idea and he respects that but ya know, the whole eternal damnation of homosexuals thing kinda turned him off.

A flash of red colour catches his eye, taking a step forward he brings his face closer to the door.

It's a ladybug.

Poor little thing is probably freezing, he wishes sweaters the size of thumbtacks were a thing, he'd wrap the little fellow up all warm and cozy, Louis sympathizes with him.

"Did Jack tell you it was going to be cloudy with a slight breeze today too?" He mumbles to the ladybug.

He brings the tip of his finger down to stroke it's hard back, so pretty. Louis smiles and places his fingernail underneath it's body, resting the tip on the door.

"Ladybug ladybug fly away home, Your house is on fire and your children are gone. All except one and that's little Ann, For she crept under the frying pan!" Louis gently sings with jolly despite his frozen state, the slightly morbid nursery rhyme was one he remembers as a child all to well.

The small red insect starts to creep it's thin legs onto Louis finger with an almost unnoticeable pressure until it's sat neatly upon his nail. Louis giggles as it crawls onto his frozen skin.

"Would you like to share my sweater little gu-“

"You're an odd one Mr. Tomlinson." Niall interrupts, only half of his face sticking out the door due to the chilly weather, amusement evident in his voice.

"Singing to bugs and such." Niall smiles wider, watching as the lady bug spreads it's wings and flys off into its inevitable doom. How sad. Louis was gonna keep him warm. 

A pout spreads over his face, as Niall chuckles again, fully widening the door to let Louis in.  
He steps in, warmth instantly hugging every curve and crevice of his body. Ah.

Niall is dressed the same; as he expected. Stiff suit with a pointed tail, those warm looking gloves on his hands. Louis really needs to buy some gloves.

Niall starts walking through the house, Louis on his heels. He looks around this time, spotting at least two bathrooms and an entertainment room equipped with a television the size of Louis dorm room. Watching a footie match on that would be cry worthy.

The white floors fade into black letting Louis know they're almost to the study. Niall stops suddenly, Louis just short of slamming into him. He raises an eyebrow as Niall turns around, calm grin pasted on his face.

"Sorry didn't mean to startle ya. I was just going to offer you a cup of tea. Yorkshire I presume?" Louis jaw dropped, wait, how did he know that.

"How did you know that?" Louis questions, maybe the nice guy act is a facade, maybe he's really a stalker thats finally got his opportunity to lock him in a basement somewhere.

"It's a talent of mine, me mum taught me how to do it, but she said you have to have the natural ability before hand. So I'm not spilling any secrets." Not that Louis had any urge to become a tea psychic but he really wanted to know how he knew that.

"Can't you just tell me a little bit of the secret? So I don't think you have a secret shrine to me in your room." Niall throws his head back in a cackle. He wipes a finger under his eye as he focuses back on Louis.

"I can assure you I have no shrine. I'll tell you one thing." Niall states holding up a single finger. "It's in the eyes." Louis rolls his eyes.

"Oh my god, if there was an award for the most vague statement of the year you would win." Niall grins a cheeky smirk, promptly turning around and heading further into the kitchen. Louis stands there not quite sure if he’s suppose to follow.

"You are welcome to have a seat. I already informed Harry you were here. I'll bring you your tea as soon as its done." Louis nods, grateful Niall can read minds. He starts treading his feet in the direction of the room.

"Oh there should also be a blanket somewhere about in there if your still chilly." Niall adds in, yes please. A soft thick blanket sounds awesome. His hands feel like a million needles are stabbing deep into his muscle tissue as the blood rushes back into his skin.

He walks into the study, only now noticing the metallic gold wallpaper gracing the walls everywhere there isn't a bookcase. It's quite lovely, graceful swirls delicately printed in ivory on top.

There's a plush blanket lazily thrown across the back of a chair across the room. Louis picks it up and easily cocoons himself inside the soft material. Walking back over to the couch where he left his back pack, he pulls out his copy of Leaves of Grass and sets it on the wood coffee table.

Niall walks in next, holding a dainty plate with an intricately designed cup a top, small tendrils of smoke escaping from the hot liquid. He carefully places it on the table with expert balance.

"Here you go sir." Niall says standing back up to his full hight.

"You can just call me Louis if that's okay, I'm not really use to the formalities." He says scratching the back of his neck. Niall smiles with a nod of his head.

"Of course whatever you prefer.”

"Why does he have my blanket Niall?" Niall jumps at the sudden appearance of a low rumbled voice.

"Oh! Harry! You scared the crap out of me. How long have you been there." Louis inwardly smiles at the break of professionalism Niall showed with Harry. Then he realizes Harry is sending a nasty glare in his general direction. Ugh.

"Oh uh, I apologize would you like me to get him a different one. I told him he could use it." Harry's glare softens a tad knowing Niall was the one that directed him to use it.

"I guess it's fine, just be sure to wash it afterwards." Harry says taking heavy steps toward the couch. And. Wait. What.

"Excuse me? Are you saying I'm dirty?" Louis exclaims, a snap in his voice. He can see Niall grimace at the confrontation. Harry stops mid step and raises an eyebrow on a now emotionless face.  
  
"I call it like I see it." Harry says, and Louis is pissed. He is sure everyone in the room can tell just by looking at his face. He glances down, his maroon sweater peaking out from the blanket, his ripped black jeans stretched over muscled thighs. Yeah maybe his hair is a little unkempt today, but Louis has never dealt with anyone that was this rude for no reason, he put deodorant on he swears! Actually, fuck this.

Louis stands up abruptly and slings the blanket off his body, the air shocking his semi defrosted skin. He crunches the blanket up into a large round shape and promptly throws it directly at Harry's face.

It hits his target, a satisfied smirk on Louis face, Niall is covering his mouth beside Louis, he's not sure if it's from amusement or shock because Harry's face is pretty priceless right about now.

"I'd rather freeze to death ya dick!" He really wishes he didn't have so much pride. He's seriously so cold, he had to show this guy something though. But...maybe he should have kept the curse words to a zero. Eek.

He's so fired.

Harry's mouth drops open, so pretty, no, no, he's angry. Stay angry. His green eyes are wide and a slight flush is forming on his smooth cheeks.

"What? Nothing to say?" Louis says accent thickening with the ticking seconds, he takes a step toward Harry, who quickly takes a step back ensuring complete distance. 

If Louis didn't know any better he would have sworn Harry's eyes held fear, an odd emotion to see Louis thought. He was not only half Harry's size but Harry is the one who started it, for gods sake. Who is this kid making him feel bad about sticking up for himself?

The twinkle of fear quickly subsides and the anger is back, as if he completely changed his train of thought Harry takes a grand step forward only leaving half a foot in between the two. He mimics the defensive stance Louis also holds, jutting his chin out a hair and squinting his eyes in a menacing glare.

Is Louis really about to have his first fight? He may act confident but he's not so sure about this. Maybe he can go for the eye balls, just jam his fingers in there real good. 

Yeah, that'll hurt.

He can feel Harry's ragged breath ghost over his face, hot and warm. Louis eyes flutter shut for half a second, lost in the daze of the musky but clean smell drifting to his nose. Fuck, he needs to get his body under control.

He opens his eyes back up to find Harry's face flushed to the nines, he struggles to keep the angry etched into his features. They're just staring at each other now, eyes locked on eyes. 

Louis can't read what Harry's thinking, his odd gaze confusing the shit out of him. 

Weren't they suppose to be fighting? 

Or at the very least angrily glaring at each other? 

As if Harry could read his thoughts, he's suddenly squeezing his eyes shut, it looks almost painful, like he's trying to keep from hurling all over the ground. With that thought in mind Louis takes a small step back, glancing over at Niall who has a shocked but sympathetic look on his face directed towards Harry.

Okay so is weird ass behavior a norm then?

Niall looks over at Louis, just a small upturn of the corners of his mouth instead of the obnoxiously bright smile he usually wears. He brings a gloved hand up to gently pat Louis on the back and then proceeds to completely turn around and walk out of the room.

what.

The only ounce of comfort Louis had is now gone. The air is thick and hot and Louis doesn't know what to do. He watches Harry, as he puts a hand to his sweater clad hip, eyes still closed but not in a painful looking way anymore. He gently shakes his head, Louis looks away, feeling whatevers going on in Harry's head is to intimate to intrude on.

This odd rude little man, he swears.

As he's studying the number of flowers painted on the porcelain chandelier overhead Harry clears his throat, "Let's get some work done.”.

Woah. 

Did Harry just say what he thinks he said? Maybe he should get angry more often.

Harry sits down, the purple cushion sinking with his weight. He's stiff, shoulders slightly hunched as he reaches for his bag with shaky hands, Louis can tell from five feet away the guy is a little distracted if not completely uncomfortable.

Louis would rather have angry Harry than awkward uncomfortable Harry.

What has he done..

Louis moves to the couch, sitting as far on the other side as possible. He picks up his book from the coffee table, idly flipping through pages as he waits for Harry to do the same.

"So," Louis says holding out the word as Harry stares blankly at the cover of his book. Brand new and obviously untouched.

"I saw on your outline last time that your suppose to pick a poem from the book, are there recommended ones on your sheet?" Louis asks, voice oddly quiet as not to disrupt the thick air hanging over them. Louis is still not sure why that is.

Harry nods his head lightly, pulling out a packet of papers Louis recognizes, Harry had taken the time to neatly tape the crinkled shreds together. Well, that's nice atleast. He'd make a joke about it if he could, but it doesn't seem like the time. Harry hands over the packet, pulling his fingers back at lightning speed once Louis grasps it. Odd.

 

The paper contains five bullet points listing the options of poems included in the book, he glances over at Harry.

"Which one would you like to do?" Harry shrugs and looks down at the paper.

"I've never heard of any of ‘em." Louis raises his eyebrows, he wonders if Harry even goes to class, Louis is sure Mrs. Blake covers each poem at least a little bit before handing out the assignment.

"Well just pick one at random then." Louis says as he mentally check marks that this is the calmest conversation they've ever had.

With out staring at the paper for more than two seconds Harry stretches a long arm over and points a finger at random.

"Alright, seems you have picked the poem 'Behold This Swarthy Face'. Nice choice." Louis says with a smirk, he knew this one well. Harry quickly glances over.

"What the hell is swarthy." He mumbles, the deep vibration of his voice coating Louis' ear drums. It was quiet so Louis doesn't know if he is meant to actually answer the question, but he does so anyways. Harry is suppose to be learning something after all.

"It means they have a dark complexion." Louis says as he starts to flip his messy pages to the poem Harry had picked.

Harry twitches at the answer, obviously not expecting a response. He hums in reply, looking over at Louis’ book to find the page number. His eye lashes are so dark, fluttering in struggle as he strains to read the small numbers placed in the corner of the page.

"Page 172." Louis offers, Harry's eyes flicker up to Louis for a moment, then he looks away and clears his throat as he delicately turns the pages with large hands.

Louis notices the sleeves of Harrys green sweater hug his wrists tightly then blossoms with loose heavy material around his arms and torso, putting his pale knuckled hands on full view. They were nice, Louis wishes it wouldn't be weird if he reached across the couch right now just to see how soft they actually were. But, that would be weird, so Louis puts it to the back of his mind. He quickly shakes his head to get his mind back on track.

"Okay!" Louis says with a clap that was just a little to loud, Louis blushes as Harry jumps a foot off the couch, the sudden burst of noise startling the younger man. Louis flushes, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry, uhm, okay so," Louis attempts to apologize, he can see Harrys cheeks start to color, embarrassed for getting scared. Louis bounces to get a little closer to Harry so they can share the outline lying in front of Harry on the table. Harry flinches, fully leaning his body into the armrest, ruby red slowly starts to creep up his neck, maybe Louis does smell. Fuck, this guy is not getting in his head. He smells fucking fine, it's only been like a day and a half!

"Alright so, this book was written by Walt Whitman and he continued to add to the book until he died. Literally his life work. The copy we have right now is the deathbed edition. For obvious reasons." It seems like Harry is listening, his head is slowly nodding but he’s not sure if its just an act.

"Maybe you should write this down." Louis adds in, he doesn't want everything coming out of his mouth to fall on closed ears, he doesn't like wasting his time. Not again.

A heavy sigh escapes Harrys pink lips, accompanied by an eye roll as a sweater clad arm reaches in his bag to pull out a thin spiral notebook with a blue pen clipped securely to the front. He slams the notebook on his long thighs with a smack and flips his head dramatically toward Louis with a blank expression.

Louis doesn't know what took over him but he's suddenly throwing his head back as a loud cackles rips out of his throat. His stomach continues to shake as his eyes begin to water. The dramatic motions of Harry had cut the tension like butter, at least to Louis who felt a hundred percent better that harry was still a little brat and he didn't have to walk around on eggshells hoping not to break China Doll Harry. 

These were laughs of relief. 

He wipes his tears with the back side of his hand, as his small giggles slowly begin to die down. His stomach hurts at the sudden outburst. He let's out a heavy breath as a smile graces his lips, that was a good laugh.

He finally looks back over at Harry, and good lord, his face alone was about to send Louis into another laughing attack. His eyes brows were sharply drawn together in confusion, his face completely flushed a dark shade of red, his was mouth twisted into some kind of snarl and his eyes were blown wide. Trying to take in the odd man that is Louis Tomlinson, a man who happens to break out into random laughter. 

"I'm sorry, it's just, sorry." He says, another laugh spilling from his throat. Not even able to explain why exactly he was laughing. He's not gonna say, well your weird ass attitude was fucking with my air supply and my brain so I laughed when you acted like a dick again because I was relieved? No he couldn't say that.

"Your kind of strange." Harry claims turning away, his eyebrows are still stuck where they were but his mouth is now tightly shut closed. He brings his hands up to his heated face, and gently pats his cheeks with his hands, probably confirming to himself that yes, he was as bright as Rudolph's nose. Louis quite liked it when Harry blushed, even though he does it at odd times, maybe he just gets embarrassed really easy. Mm. Things to keep in mind.

Before Louis can get caught staring, he forces himself to look down at his book, the short poem staring back up at him. He faintly hears the light scribble of a pen and when he glances over he can see what he said out loud now neatly written into the notebook, accented with the small but pretty hand writing of Harry. The curly headed man turns his face to Louis, expecting him to continue he presumes.

"Kae, so the thing you to need to know about Walt before we delve into this poem is that a lot of people in the literary world believe he was gay, " an abrupt cough sounds from beside Louis, forcing him to stop. Harry is blinking strangely fast, eyes still set on the book. He waits a second in case Harry was going to cough some more but the boy just sits there with his weird blinks not saying a word.

His head hurts, this guy is seriously…

"Uhm okay?" Louis says with a raise of his curved eyebrow.

"Many people believe he was gay or at the very least bisexual because he did in fact talk about woman as well." Louis stops talking as Harry picks up his blue pen with a shaky hand and writes the words Louis had said. Why is his hand shaking... Should Louis ask? Maybe he has bad blood circulation…yeah...

"This specific poem," Louis says pointing a finger to the section of words, "...is in a section that is known for having homoerotic undertones. And this specific one is pretty clear in its intentions, he's literally talking about kissing another man. The wording he uses just throws you off a bit because back then you got sent to jail for homosexuality and stuff. Awful right? Want to start breaking it down from the first line?" He offers, expecting Harry to be writing down his words but when he looks over he is instead greeted with that awful face from earlier, his eyes are squeezed shut harshly and his large teeth are digging into his plump lip with force. Louis looks around, confusion coating his thoughts. What happened? Everything was fine!

Louis turns his body fully to Harry now, he's actually concerned. His thoughts reel back to earlier, Nialls reaction made it seem like this is a common occurrence. Louis just wishes he wasn't so fucking clueless, he literally new nothing about Harry.

"A-are you okay?" Louis whispers, not sure at all how the other guy will react to his question. Harry flinches as he releases his sharp grip on his lip.

Louis can see the deep rise and fall of the others breathing.

"Can we..." Harry takes in a deep gulp of air. "...do a different poem please?" His voice was oddly soft and pleading like it physically pained him to say the words. Louis didn't understand. He was acting this way because of the poem? Okay, he'll think about this odd request later. Anything to get Harry out of this weird trance.

"Yeah yeah sure. No problem. Uhm. We can do," He quickly flips through the pages to another poem, one about nature. Yeah that seems neutral.

"Page 12, this one's about his love for the ocean." Louis rushes out, for some reason he felt a surge of urgency. The change of subject visibly calming Harry as his eyes slowly open to look down at his book. Slowly turning the pages with still shaking fingers.

The rest of the session goes like this, Harry tensely silent, distracted, as if something's on his mind. Lazily writing down Louis' explanation of the poem. Louis tried to get Harry to help him out so he can actually learn something, but he didn't want to push it, so basically Louis did all the work. He was already fucking confused.

When they, or rather he, finished breaking apart the poem he silently puts his things up into his bag and glances over at Harry doing the same.

Niall is standing at the door already, quiet smile on his mouth. The mood is off, it's weird, he's uncomfortable. It's like he's not in on the joke, or rather the situation? Whatever the fuck is going on.

"Uhm, I'll see you next Wednesday I guess..." Louis says with uncertainty as he breaks the silence. Harry stops mid motion, lone pen he was about to put up dangling from his long fingers over his bag. He doesn't look at Louis, but his head nods once, curls jumping, the movement barely noticeable, but quite enough for Louis to feel that that was all he was getting as a response.

He turns around on his heels chucking his back pack higher onto his shoulder. He glances down and realizes he never touched his tea. How sad, he looks longingly at the now cold liquid, rest in peace you delicious beverage.

He makes his way to Niall as the butler starts to head out of the room. The walk is silent, and he's actually looking forward to getting smash face drunk and playing FIFA, this was to stressful.

Niall opens the door, a gust of cold air flowing in. Fuck. He forgot it was hell frozen over outside. Before he steps fully out the door a gloved hand gently grips his wrist.

"Harry is a complicated person Louis. He's going through some stuff." Louis takes in his words. He still doesn't know what to do with them. Everything is one big vague ass ball of what?

He nods his head, not really knowing what to say. Niall seems to understand as he smiles and hands over a white envelope with his pay for the session. Louis takes it and shoves it into his backpack, offering Niall a wave as he steps out into the cool breeze. 

He snatches his board leaning up against the wall and leaves the premises with fervent energy. Alcohol now please. Louis isn't going to lie, he’s pretty glad he doesn't have to come back till Wednesday. 

He skates back into town, admiring the changing colors of the new season. Green leaves morphing into vibrant yellow and orange, slowly shriveling and falling with more grace than Louis could ever posses. He can’t wait till the trees are bare, its leaves having fallin into crunchy piles on the ground. Nature creating a harsh melody as he walks on, plants under feet. So satisfying.

The petrol station comes into view. More people taking up space on the sidewalks as he weaves in and out. The sun is already set and the University campus is lit up with street lights and cell phones. It takes him five minutes total to buy a six pack of beer and a pack of cigs. A habit he’s trying to quit, but days like today just make it really hard okay? He’s stressed. Bitchy kids with to much money and weird emotional problems seems like a good enough reason. 

-

He’s knocking on the peeling paint of Nick and Andys apartment after thoroughly getting frost bite on his fingers and toes, desperately trying to keep grips on his beer as numb fingers struggle to hold it.

 

"Louiiiiiiis!" A voice only known to Nick shouts as he swings open the door. A waft of weed, alcohol and sweaty man hits Louis like a boulder. Ah smells like comfort.

"What's up Nick! Let me in I'm nearly frozen to death here." The tall man steps aside to make way for Louis. He sets his skateboard next to the others by the walk way, beer in the other hand. With Nick on his tail he strolls into the living room that's basked in clouds of smoke even though the balcony doors open.

A chorus of his name is echoed through the small room. Andy and Olly mumble hellos as they continue to button smash their Xbox controllers. The small figure on screen just barely missing the goal, a mass of “oooh”'s is released with a few losers thrown in.  
Louis watches as Liam gets up from his pillow thrown he built on the floor next to Andy.

"Hey lou. How'd the tutoring go?" Liam questions as he throws an arm over Louis shoulders, guiding him to the pillow fortress on the ground.

"Fucking sucked. Harry is seriously weird and he seriously dislikes me." Louis says as he grabs a chilled bottle from his pack, twisting the top off and taking a long swig till it burned.

"He told his butler to wash his blanket because I touched it!" Another drink.

"He called me dirty!" Drink.

"Woah Woah Woah." Andy chimes in as he uses his feet to spin himself around to face Liam and Louis.  
"Did you just say someone doesn't like you? That's impossible, everyone likes you." Louis appreciates the kind words, but it's obviously a false statement.

"That's what I said!" Liam screeches, Louis needs to get on their level. He tilts his head back finishing off his first bottle with a loud belch, a 'niiiice' was yelled somewhere behind him.

"Who is this prick then, spill." Andy says as he reaches under the couch to grab a black wooden box.

"Yeah what the fuck, who doesn't love my Lou?" Nick adds in as he plops down on a pillow beside Andy with a large bag of crisps. He opens it was a loud pop and crunch as he shoves to many inside his mouth. Louis cringes as crumbs tumble down to get lost among the pillows.

"This Harry guy right? Super rich, his dad is paying Louis three hundred dollars a fucking session!" Liam inserts, telling the story for Louis.

"What! Three hundred fucking dollars?! What is this kid the spawn of Satan? Why is he paying you so much?" Andy screams with astonishment, beside him Nick drops his jaw, more food falling out.

"That's literally what I said, but his dads a pretty big dick as well, I think he's only paying me a lot because he expects me to help his son get an A fucking plus. He's one of those parents ya know, and it's super fucking annoying because Harry isn't cooperating worth shit!" Louis shivers, suddenly grateful he didn't have to encounter Mr. Styles today. He twist the top off of another bottle and chugs half of it in one go.

"Why not?” Andy and Nick say at the same time, Olly strolls back over and sits down in the space between the Xbox and Andy.

"I don't fucking know! Oops." His drink sloshes out the top and falls onto his jeans. Great.

"Can you hurry the hell up with that blunt man. I'm gonna be eighty by the time you're finished." Olly whines to Andy, who is currently holding an un wrapped blunt having gotten distracted by Louis story. Andy sticks his tongue out at Olly while proceeding to roll the blunt.

"And like today," Louis begins, stopping to take a drink of bitter beer.

"He randomly picked this poem right. And we were suppose to break it down. The minute I started explaining it he started to have like a fucking panic attack or something. Honest to god looked like he was gonna barf on me." A buzz is starting to set in. He can feel his blood thicken as it flows throughout his body, feels good.

"Well what was the poem about?" said Liam, propping his chin up on his hand.

"In a round about way it's basically a poem about two men kissing. The author of it is thought to be gay, so it's all under the table. I really liked that poem too!" Louis whines.

"Ahhhh!" Nick snaps his fingers.

"I got it! He's probably just a big homophobe!" Nick said, sticking his hand into the bag noisily.

Louis’ mouth drops open with a pop, cold beer sitting idly in his hand.

"Oh my god! Your probably completely right! Why hadn't I thought about that!" Louis really doesn't know how that factor couldn’t have crossed his mind, his strict parents, the carvings on the door, the eighty different copies of the Bible sitting on the shelf in the study. Holy shit. He brings the glass bottle to his mouth again, inhaling the remaining contents.

"Wait." He pauses, to many thoughts flowing at once.

"Is that why he doesn't like me? Because I'm gay?" Louis questions looking around his circle of friends.

"Well did you tell him you were gay?" Questions Olly, raising an eyebrow, everyone else leans in, intently listening.

Louis shakes his head, "No I didn't say a word!" Louis feels a pang in his chest, besides high school he's pretty much been accepted with open arms. He's never personally had to deal with homophobic people in recent years, and he was quite content with that, of course the most beautiful man to walk this earth is a homophobe. What a cruel world we live in.

"Perhaps, and don't take this the wrong way Lou..." Liam says as all eyes flick to him. "He assumed? I mean, I don't think you shout gay, but maybe he's really intuitive.”

"Are you saying I look gay Liam?" It's not really an insult but he didn't feel there was a big arrow pointing at him.

"No! I'm just saying maybe he does. It would explain his behavior right?" Liam rushes out as he takes a sip of his gross beer.

Liam was right. It would make sense with the odd way Harry acted. Was he honestly sickened by him? Wow.

"Aw Louis don't make that face!" Nick yells lunging over to embrace him in an awkward angled bear hug. It just made him sad that he was actually disliked for being himself.

"Here." Said Andy, passing the blunt to Louis who takes the offered object, deeply inhaling the thick smoke. He really does need to get intoxicated right now.

"Thanks." Louis says, a mass of smoke dripping out of his mouth, he passes it to Liam.

"This kid goes to our school though?" Asked Andy, raising an eyebrow as he puts his paraphernalia back into his box and slides it under the couch.

Louis nods, his head already becoming lighter with the weed boost. He finishes off his beer and sets it beside his other empty one.

"What's his last name? Maybe we know him, fuck him up a bit maybe, ya know for bein a dick?" Louis shakes his head no a little to fast for his state of inebriation.

"No, no fucking him up. I don't think I need to remind you how much I'm getting paid." Everyone nods in agreement that yeah, no one should risk the money for a few bruises.

"But his last name is Styles. Tall with lots of curls and stuff." Also the prettiest boy he’s ever seen. 

Fuck.  
No.  
He’s the enemy. 

With that thought Louis pops the cap on his third beer, ah sweet bliss.

A bomb of smoke is suddenly catapulted into Louis' face followed by a heavy string of painful sounding coughs.

"Did you just say Styles?" Nick says in between coughs, shoving the blunt into Louis hands.

“As in Harry fucking Styles?" Nicks eyes are blown wide, harshly staring at Louis.  Louis' face morphs into confusion.

"Uhm. Yeah. Do you know him?" Louis questions. Nick nods his head furiously.

"Well I mean not super personally, but, his dad owns the biggest real-estate company in all of London. He literally owns the company that built all those new apartment complexes out side of campus. Sooooo much money." Nick says as he flings his body back on the ground. Ruffling his hair into odd angles.

"How do you know all this?" Olly asks, his eyes squinting to stare at Nick, bloodshot from the weed.

Nick sits up abruptly and stares at Olly like he just formed two heads.

"My mom is a real-estate agent in his company. Fucking duh. I thought you were my friend Olly, you don't even know my moms career! How horrible!" Nick says with slurred words, a distraught expression plastered on his face. Louis is going to pretend that he also knew that information, which he didn't. But, Nick doesn't need to know that. It really explains why their house is so extravagant and why his pay is so high. They probably have a literal money tree in their back yard, he should check that next time.

"Well how is Harry around you then?" Louis wanted Nick to give him the information he really wanted. Maybe he could explain more about the rude mannered boy that is Harry Styles.

Nick looks back over at Louis, his dramatic scene done with. He shrugs a shoulder.

"He's always at the holiday parties and best agent awards and stuff. He acts a lot like his Mom." A spike of curiosity hits Louis, he's never seen Harry's mom as of yet. The only thing he's ever heard about her came out of Niall's mouth when he said the books were her collection.

"Very quiet, never talked to anyone really. I tried a few times, because even if he is a dick, he is one fine ass man. Ugh!" Nick continues as he closes his eyes with a nod of his head, probably appreciating the image of Harry Styles all dressed up. Louis' eyebrow twitches. Mm. Weird.

"What'd he do when you tried talking to him?" Louis pushes.

"Question is which time? Anytime I said anything he would just flinch like I was some hideous monster about to eat him, then he would just walk away with out a word. When his dads business partners would come up to him he was probably obligated to talk to them. The only reason I even know what his voice sounds like. It was so weird, I mean he didn't use to be like that, all skidish I mean, he was still quiet and stuff but he use to have this friend that came with him every year, keep him company I guess, even saw a smile a few times, up until like four or five years ago, after he stopped coming, is when I actually tried talking to Harry, and well obviously I just told you how that went. My mom has been with that company for like ten years so I've seen him a lot here and there, but as for the homophobic part." Nick stops, taking a breath of air to refuel his lungs. Every person in the circle intensely staring him down.

"I could completely see it. His father is a big piece of shit, always talking about how gay's should have no rights, how they're going to be damned to hell for their lifestyle, talking like that's appropriate conversation to have at a fucking Christmas party. It's so crazy cause he doesn't talk about anything else besides his church, his business, or how he just completely hates gay's. Not even his son, just his own views and opinions. I'm sure the homophobia could've easily rubbed off on his son.”

Louis chugs his beer. He wasn't expecting this much information, it's too much, but too little. Why does he even care about this guy that obviously hates him. Although, Louis might live by the saying of curiosity killed the cat. 

Meow.

He's fuzzy brain is reeling over Nicks words, how Mr. Styles is even more horrible than he originally thought. It's like he has some kind of grudge on the gay community, but why? Louis never really understood how some people just can't understand that it's not a choice. Why should he be sent to hell for loving someone, not that he even believes in hell. But it's the over all picture. He hates when people have no respect, he has respect for religion even though he doesn't support it, so they should have respect for his lifestyle even if they don't completely agree with it.

"How can people just stand there and listen to his bullshit?" Liam practically screams, obviously just as put off as Louis is. Nick shakes his head.

"He's rich babe. He's the one who signs their paychecks." Nick says solemnly.

"Urgh!!" Liam screeches, throwing himself back in a similar position Nick was in earlier. Louis joins him, this whole conversation taking a toll on his drunk psyche.

"Who wants to play some FIFA." Louis loves Olly. He raises his hand from his sprawled out position on the floor.

“Please, me. I can't take anymore of this crazy talk." He jumps to the balls of his feet, promptly landing back on his ass. He's more drunk than he originally thought, or, maybe it's the weed.

He wonders what Harry's smile looks like. He imagines it probably looks like the sun on a delightful spring day, but with the dark depths of evil hidden somewhere beneath. Yeah. Louis' drunk.

He crawls on all fours towards the Xbox station, his head is spinning and all he wants to do right now is not think about Harry, or his horrible father.

—

Regret.

Regret is the only thing forming in Louis mind right now.

After their little chat last night he played a total of six games of FIFA. The rules were you take a shot every time the other scores on you.

Louis is good, don't get him wrong. But, a completely shit faced emotional Louis isn't. He won half the games and Olly won the other three. He wasn't happy about any of them, he may have cried once or twice but he doubted anyone will really remember that happening. It all went down hill from there. 

The clock hit one about five minutes ago and Louis is laying in the exact same position he fell asleep in. Foreign walls and silence is what Louis wakes up too. Thankfully there was a clock on the TV to tell him the time, he seemed to have lost his phone among the twenty pillows spread around the ground. The pillow under his head is distractingly stiff and puffy, causing his neck muscles to pinch, he was so gonna feel this sleep later today. 

A loud slam bounces off the walls, assaulting his ears brutally, his head is pounding. Another shaking slam, and Louis can tell it was the bathroom door. Seconds later the oh so beautiful sound of vomit is thrown through out the apartment. Louis squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of barf because it sorta makes him wanna barf. Like seriously, actually, yes, he’s gonna barf. Fuck. The swooping feeling starts setting in his chest and he can tell if he doesn't get somewhere else soon he’s gonna barf on every single one of these uncomfortable little pillows. 

He pushes himself up, legs shaky, he puts a hand over his mouth, begging his contents to stay down for just a second longer. The room is spinning as he looks around, knowing the bathroom is occupied, he spots the kitchen. Yes, the sink! He runs to the stainless steel pit, cold tile shocking the heat out of his feet. Within seconds his mouth becomes the Niagara Falls of vomit. 

Eventual, he’s just dry heaving, his elbows resting on either side of the sink. He breaths in deep, trying to ignore the putrid smell that happens to be coming from the inside of his mouth. 

“Hope you plan to wash that out mate.” Nick pipes in from behind him, all Louis can do is grunt in response. Louis listens as Nick clanks around behind him, opening numerous drawers and cabinets. A clear glass of water appears on the counter beside him, two pain pills and a fresh toothbrush wrapped in plastic follow. Oh bless Nick, what a great friend, if Louis had any liquid left in his body he’d probably cry. 

“Toothpaste is in the bathroom.” Nick says with a tired laugh and a pat on the back. 

After he washes out the sink and his mouth, he walks out of the kitchen just as the bathroom door opens. Liam was the one barfing apparently, ah best friends feeling pain together, bonding. 

They meet eyes, a silence is followed by rough throated laughter, they both look ridiculous and smell even worse. Liam only has a pair of santa claus boxers on, Andy had found them sometime after his fourth shot and some how convinced Liam to put them on. Liam then proceeded to drunkenly sing christmas carols until they had to physically stop him or their ear drums would explode.

Louis on the other hand, some how got roped into makeover night, Andy’s girlfriend had left her mascara in his room, that was a recipe for disaster around this bunch of inebriated lads. Louis got voted off the drunken island and was forced to shave his face and held down as that dangerous thing called mascara was coated over his eyelashes, it was so scary, he felt like he was about to get stabbed in the eye every time, he doesn't know how any one could do that on an every day basis. 

However, Louis wont deny he looked damn good, probably not to hot this afternoon though. He walks past Liam into the bathroom as Liam walks into the living room throwing himself on the couch, Olly is twisted in some uncomfortable position on the other side, still fast asleep. 

Louis shuts the door and is shocked that all the makeup was vastly secured on his eyes still. He felt like he cried buckets when he was barfing, how is it still on? A memory flashes across his vision, fuck, its water proof isn't it. He sticks his head under the sink, trying to avoid getting his hair wet in the process. He scrubs at his eyes, but it just starts to hurt so Louis stops, patting his face with a semi wet towel, ew, he looks in the mirror. It literally didn't remove an ounce of the black goop. Louis raises an eyebrow at himself, his smooth hairless face only emphasizing the makeup on his eyes. He squints at his reflection then settles with a shrug, it could be worse he supposes. 

Quickly he brushes his teeth and proceeds to sneak into Andys room to steal a clean top. He settles on a light grey addidas hoodie, he slips it on over his head, the soft inside kissing his skin. So comfy, Louis might fall asleep standing up. He throws his sweater somewhere near the hamper, he’s figured out if he throws his dirty clothes into Andy or Nicks hamper, they wont realize it was in there till they return it to him fresh and clean. He’s evil, he knows, but he just really hates doing laundry.

He walks out into the living room. Four bodies are packed tightly on the couch. It seems everyone is at least semi awake, even though Olly looks like he’s about to nod off again.

“Hey is that my sweatshirt!” Andy shouts with an accusing finger directed at Louis.

“Oh my god dont yell!” Olly hisses, covering his ears.

“Nooo, of course its not! I dont know whaaat you're talking about hun.” Louis says morphing his voice into a southern bell accent and batting his eye lashes. Andy rolls his eyes while Liam snorts.

“Aye, Im hungry guys.” Count on Nick to get everyone completely off subject, not that Louis’ complaining. He walks in front of the cramped couch and sinks down on the pillows still gracing the hard wood floor.

“Dont talk about food oh my god!” Olly whines, trying to guard his stomach like they were about to force feed him.

“I mean, I know I spewed my guts every where like thirty minutes ago, but I’m kinda hungry too.” Liam inserts. 

“Yeah I could go for a good greasy burger.” Liam snarls at Andys suggestion.

“You can have a veggie burger Li!” Andy yells, feeling the heat from Liams stare.

Liam thinks about it for a second then agrees that he guesses that could work. Louis is at the point where he could eat or he could barf, he’ll see how he feels when they get there. Everyone stands up, agreeing to get semi decent, even Olly who crawls to the bathroom not wanting to be left out. Louis stands by the door having already gotten ready enough, it takes ten minutes for everyone to gather and they vote to walk since Olly will more than likely barf if he steps foot on a skateboard. 

As soon as the door opens a chorus of screams is choked out of every boy. The sun is either unbearably bright or their eyes are unbearably sensitive, Louis thinks both. They quickly shut the door as they all scatter to find a pair of sunglasses or a hat. Louis scampers to his bag, unzipping the front pocket to pull out his aviators, sliding the cool metal onto his face he walk back over to the door. 

The second attempt went better, they even made it all the way down the street to Eddies Burgers, one of those local places that also cater to Liams little hipster veg burger needs. They walk into the cute restaurant, designed like a fiftys soda shop. Black and white tiled floors, pastel colors every where, theres even a jukebox in the corner, the table tops are a polished clean white and the whole place is over all is just inviting.

A hostess wearing a poodle skirt and a pony tail greet them at the door, picking up five menus she starts walking them to their seats, a booth in the corner looking out the glass windows. They pile in, Louis refuses to sit anywhere that isn't the farthest seat from the window, his eyes are still recovering from earlier. So he is blessed with the outskirts of the table, his bottom slightly hanging off the edge due to the other two men also squished into the same side.

“Move your damn elbow tommo!” Andy groans, shoving his elbow into the side of Louis’.

“Oi fuck off then. Im hanging off the edge here as it is. The least I get is some elbow room.” Louis says pushing his elbow back into place.

They're interrupted by their waiter, a thirty something man shoved into a white t-shirt, leather jacket, and some tight blue jeans rolled at the ankle. Very Grease reunion or something. 

“Hiya guys! What can I get for ya today?” He says in an obviously fake pep, almost sarcastic. It makes Louis laugh. They all order waters and greasy burgers with various toppings, of course Liam gets his veggie burger. Louis is giddy with excitement, the smell of cooked food convincing his brain he’s hungry. He needs this food right now. But his bladder says other wise, he drank his whole glass of water in under a minute and he’s feeling it now. He gives in, standing up, he adjust his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. 

“Im going to take a pee. If my food gets here before I come back you better keep your dirty paws off it lads” He says to his table of friends with a pointed look. They wave him off as he spins around in search of the restroom. He finds the pastel blue door with the word “Boys” neatly painted across in pink. 

He pushes the door open, and notices the lighting had gotten significantly darker, he spots the urnials in the back placed on the wall in front of the stalls, a toilette flushes just as he’s coming up on the urinals. The floor is squeaky and he thinks he stepped on some gum, his shoe keeps doing that smacking sound, how gross, he glances down about to pick up his shoe to check when all of a sudden an overwhelming pain shoots through the bridge of his nose as a cheap plastic door smacks him straight in the face. He can tell his glasses are broke by the time his ass hits the floor from the impact, there wasn’t even time to react. 

These were his favorite pair, dammit. 

His head is pounding and his nose might be completely broken, yeah broken for sure. Fuck. The floor is cold but his eyes are watering to much for him to coherently think straight right now, let alone talk, what a jerk opening doors in peoples faces. Fuckity fuck. 

Somewhere in the haze of things large hands snake around his back and under his arms, yanking him onto his feet. The movement was to fast for his splitting head ache, his vision goes black as he blindly holds onto the muscled arm that picked him up, keeping his other hand securely placed over his nose and eyes willing the tears to stop. Theres only a dull throb aching in his nose now, he tunes back into the real world, a string of sorry’s are coming from nearby, and wait. He turns on his senses, the feeling of a thick sweater under his palm, the unique smell of laundry and sweet musk, that voice. No fucking way. 

Louis takes the sleeve of his hoodie and gently wipes the liquid out of his vision.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Louis whispers breaking his silence, the warmth under his hand disappears as Harry fucking Styles takes a step back. Eyes wild, presumably just realizing the man he hit then proceeded to pick up was no one other than Louis Tomlinson, the accent giving him away. 

They stand there staring at each other, Louis’ broken glasses lying on the tiled floor somewhere close by. 

“You really should be more careful with those doors.” Louis says matter afactly, folding his arms across his chest. Not quick to forget the conversation he had with his friends the night before. 

“Your face.” The words were forced out like Harry was struggling to breath right. What? Louis turns his face back to Harry. He’s clad in a powder blue knit sweater, tight black jeans cast over long legs, light colored boots adorning his feet. Louis realizes he’s never actually seen Harry with shoes on. In the two sessions they've had he always had on a pair of discolored socks. His hair flows gracefully in curly swoops, framing his flushed face. He looks nice, but thats beside the point. 

“Uhm. My face? Don’t you remember you just hit me with a do-” Louis stops the minute his hand touches his jaw and his face turns a similar shade of firetruck. His skin is smooth, reminding him that he was forced into cutting off his lovely scruff, but thats not the part he’s worried about. His fingers move up to his eyes, the thick makeup poking his finger tips. 

The makeup, how embarrassing. 

Who knows what Harry already thought of him, jesus, he’s gonna tell his homophobic father his tutor was wearing makeup and he’s gonna be fired, so fired. The money was good while it lasted he guesses. He tries to shake off his insecurities, locking eyes with Harry, and willing his blush to leave. 

“Yeah, uhm. The lads and I, uhm, just had a bit of fun last night.” Louis says, clearing his throat, not breaking eye contact. Louis can see the heat rising in Harry’s face, his cheeks blotching up with red patches, eyes wide, flicking across Louis face at lightning speed. A shiver runs up Louis spine, he feels naked. 

“Your eyelashes are so lon-“

“Harry there you are.” Both their heads snap to the doorway.  
In the doorway stands a slim olive skinned man, his spiky hair is a shade of silver and his jaw line could cut steel, a silver hoop hooked on one nostril, and his body is wrapped in a leather jacket and boots with to much metal. 

The new asset to their little party stops in his tracks, letting the door swing shut behind him and his metal clad boots jangle. Carmel eyes shoot to Louis’ nose then back to Harry, what he assumes is anger over comes the strangers face. 

“Zayn!” Harry shouts, the loudest and highest Louis had ever heard his voice. The curly haired man practically jumps the four feet to Zayn (?) like Louis had suddenly contracted the black plauge.

The silver haired man turns to Harry, gripping his large jaw with one hand and turning his face side to side, inspecting.

“Did he fuckin touch you Harry I’ll kick his-“

“Louis! There you are!” The angelic voice of his best friend cracks through the air as Liam pushes open the door. Stopping a foot from Zayn and examining the scene before him, eye brow quirked. The third pair of eyes in the last five minutes fall to Louis’ nose which is now throbbing again. Liam rushes to Louis, grabbing his arm.

“What the fuck is going on, did you hit him?!” Liam practically screeches like the mama bear he is. What a good best friend, aw. He’s glaring at Zayn, wrong person but still entertaining. Zayn quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow, letting his hands fall to his sides, his leather jacket creaks with movement.

“No I didn't hit him, who the fuck are you anyways huh?” Zayn says harshly, snarl glued to his mouth, he takes a step forward towards Liam. 

Liam raises an eyebrow in amused surprise, he lets a sarcastic laugh drop out of his throat, taking his own step towards the other man.

“I happen to be his best fucking friend thanks, and if you didn't hit him then who the fuck did huh? Look at his nose!” said Liam, shoving a thumb in Louis general direction. 

“Well look at my Harrys face! It looked like someone had slapped him he was so distraught when -“

“Wait.” Liam inturpts mouth hanging slack, he spins around, nearly knocking Louis out in the process. “Louis is this your Harry?” Louis can feel his face heat up, Liam did always have a horrible way with words. 

“Y-yeah, b-but don’t say it li-“  
“Your Harry?” A low voice chimes in, it sounds deep in thought. Louis doesn't have enough balls to look up, not only has this guy seen him wear mascara, now he probably thinks Louis has a fuckin crush on him. Yeah, bye bye well paying job. 

“Wait, this is Louis?” Zayn pipes up, turning his own body to face the taller boy behind him. 

Wait. Harry talks to his friends about him?

Harrys eyes go wide as he nods his head once, his curls whipping back against his cheeks, suddenly very interested in the tiled floor. He idly scratches his chest with long fingers, as he quickly looks up to Louis, only holding eye contact for less than a second. Harrys eyes shoot to Zayn next, his voice was soft, not harsh or rude, it seemed like he was almost trying to whisper, leaning closer into Zayn. 

Weird, it was all weird.

“I hit him with the bathroom door on accident.” Harry says feather light almost talking directly to Zayns shoulder. 

Zayns whole demeanor completely changes, his eyes go soft and he takes a hand to rub circles into Harrys back.

Why does louis want that to be his hand? 

Beautiful stupid homophobe. Just cause he’s acting cute will not make Louis change his opinion.

“It’s okay Harry, he’s not even bleeding, he’ll be okay.” Zayn says in a oddly cheerful tone. Louis is kind of put off though and equally confused, his nose really does fucking hurt, but he can see the weirdly placed panic in Harry’s eyes, his teeth begin to bite down on his cherry red lip, harshly. And, no Louis is not going through one of these again. 

Louis puts a hand on his hip and releases a heavy sigh, “Yeah I’m fine,” Louis says as he strolls over to pick up the two separate pieces that are now his old favorite pair of sunglasses. He can see the crazed stare he’s receiving from Liam in his peripheral vision. “But my shades don’t seem to be.” 

“Awww, they looked so good on you Lou! I hope you're going to pay for those, I got him those for his birthday thank you very much.” Liam says with a pointed look directed at Harry, a snap in his voice. Liam doesn't have a habit of forgetting things when he drinks. Louis laughs at the protectiveness of his best friend, earning a raised eyebrow from Zayn, which promptly shuts him up. 

Harry stares at the broken pieces sitting in Louis hand as he nods rapidly, eyes closing.

“Ofcourse I’ll replace them.” He rushes out.  
“Zayn. Can we go please?” Harry says, sliding a pale hand over his eyes, as if the obnoxious florescent lights had suddenly become brighter. A nervous cringe passes over Zayns features as his eyes bolt back to Louis, an odd emotion lying in the depths. Louis looks away. 

“Yeah alright lets go I already paid the bill. Come on.” Zayn says calmly, snaking a hand around Harrys shoulders and leading him out the door. It swings shut with a slam. 

“Im so fucking confused.” Liam says shaking his head in contemplation.

“You and me both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> [Shaven Louis, Because its so f*cking adorable.](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com/post/134861799801)  
>   
>  *cough* But yeah, tell me what you think? *nervous laughter*  
>   
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Eh?
> 
> Ehhhhhhhhh?
> 
> Tell me what you think!
> 
> Criticism is welcome... if you do it politely and like a civilized human being. 
> 
> Or you can just say nice things. Thats cool too. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Also, the actual text keeps fucking up, so if anything is really bothersome, tell me._  
>   
> 
> <3
> 
>    
>  **Personal Tumblr:**
> 
> [thealieninsideme](http://thealieninsideme.tumblr.com)  
>   
> 
> **Larry /1D Tumblr:**  
> 
>  
> 
> [\- darklarryismymiddlename](http://darklarryismymiddlename.tumblr.com)  
> 


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